


light my heart up baby like a matchstick

by estrella30



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 04:57:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estrella30/pseuds/estrella30
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick leans back in his seat and watches Louis bounce around the room fiddling with the levels on the soundboard and getting out all the pages for the adverts and links Nick needs for the morning. Louis is humming quietly under his breath, his mouth quirked in a tiny grin and Nick thinks that it would be a whole lot easier to actually hate Louis and everything about him if he weren’t so bloody attractive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	light my heart up baby like a matchstick

**Author's Note:**

> this based on a terrific prompt from arcadianmaggie. thank you, lady!
> 
> I have absolutely no idea about anything to do with radio stations, interning at radio stations, working at radio stations, so please take pretty much everything about this with a grain of salt. 
> 
> thank you to mediaville for the beta and elle for the britpick! any remianing mistakes are very much my own.

*

Tina’s just about finished with the news and Nick’s got the new Frank Ocean all queued up when a cardboard cup of coffee slides across the desk and into his line of vision, the same loopy script the he sees every morning decorating the side of the cup.

_your shirt is hideous : )_

Nick frowns. He peels the lid off and pretends not to notice Louis snickering from the other side of the room as he takes a sip. The coffee is perfect; just enough milk and not too much sugar and it gets Nick’s hackles up that Louis knows exactly how to make Nick’s coffee and then ruins it by adding cheeky insults to the cup.

Louis bloody Tomlinson.

From across the desk Matt clears his throat and flaps his hand in the air in front of Nick’s face. Nick glares and bats his fingers away before putting on his best radio voice and taking over as soon as the background music starts in. The link doesn’t take long – just a bit of chit chat with Matt before starting up the track – but it’s long enough for Louis to catch Nick’s eye and grin evilly. He reaches up over his head to grab a book off a shelf and his tight fitting black v-neck rides up, exposing the barest sliver of bronze skin. When Louis is sure he has Nick’s attention he smiles slowly and sashays across the room, bending over far too slowly to pick up…probably nothing. Nick doesn’t see anything in Louis’hands when he stands and the whole production was far too long and drawn out to have actually served any functional purpose.

“Song’s over,” Louis says happily just as Matt reaches out and _physically_ smacks Nick in the head and my god, if Louis causes another _second_ of dead air on Nick’s show Nick’s not going to be responsible for his actions. 

“All right there, everybody, it’s good to be with you on this be _autiful_ Thursday morning,” Nick says smoothly. Louis waves at him with all of his fingers wiggling in the air. Nick wants to shove Louis’s head into a toilet. “Wouldn’t you say it’s a beautiful day, Matt Fincham?”

“It’s terrible out,” Matt grumps. “Raining and miserable.”

“Well I think the day is _lovely_ ,” Nick adds and ignores the kiss Louis blows him when he wanders from the room.

*

“Your friend is a bloody menace.” Nick’s sat at a small table in the back of his and Harry’s favorite coffee shop scowling into his drink and picking his blueberry muffin apart. Harry laughs loud enough he has to clap a hand over his mouth to keep from disturbing the rest of the customers. Nick sometimes thinks he actually hates Harry and every one of his friends. 

“Who, Lou?” Harry’s finally managed to stop laughing but his eyes are sparkling and his mouth is still tipped up into a grin. “Don’t lie to me, you love him.”

“He’s abysymal,” Nick tosses a chunk of muffin at Harry’s head. Harry picks it from his fringe and stares at it for a second before shrugging and popping it into his mouth. 

“He’s a fantastic mate and a pleasure to be around.”

“You’ve known him too long,” Nick shakes his head. He tries to sip his coffee but it’s barely a degree under molten lava temperature. “Clearly you can’t be objective.”

“I have known him for years, yeah,” Harry shrugs and drinks his tea. Tea with lots of milk, Nick thinks. Maybe he’ll switch to that. He has no idea how the coffee Louis brings him is always the perfect temperature but whenever he gets it himself it takes forty minutes to cool and Nick somehow always misses the window between too hot and disgustingly cold and winds up throwing away more than half his cup every time. The fact that Louis has somehow mastered this admittedly small art has Nick’s hackles up. 

“He’s still a great lad, though,” Harry finishes with a shrug. 

Nick rolls his eyes. “He’s awful and he drives me crazy. He’s distracting and evil and puts cheeky messages on my coffee cup and I’ve no idea why I let you convince me he would be a good intern but he’s crap at it.” Nick tries not to notice the way Harry’s barely keeping in another fit of laughter. 

“He’s a bad intern too then?” Harry asks. Nick opens his mouth to tell him yes, of course he is because he’s a childish twat, but when he tries to the words get stuck on his tongue because somehow, against all evidence to the contrary, Louis isn’t actually _bad_ at his job. Sure he might drive Nick crazy but as far as interns go he’s much better than the lad who came to work every morning with the actual quacking duck hat or the girl who ate nothing but garlic and chives.

“Fine,” Nick is finally able to sip his coffee and it’s…all right. It’s really not that good at all. Nick really hates Louis Toimlinson. “He’s fine, I guess.”

“And he needs the hours working at a radio station for experience which is why I got him the job,” Harry adds firmly, stealing the rest of Nick’s muffin and stuffing it into his mouth. “So piss off, Grimshaw,” he says around a mouthful of crumbs. 

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, you bloody brat,” Nick says. When he takes another sip of his coffee it’s already gone cold.

*

Nick’s head is pounding. Somehow drinks with Aimee and Ian and Pixie led to drunken karaoke which led to more drinks which led to drunken Instagram pictures of Nick on stage with a hot pink feather boa around his neck singing _I Will Survive_. He presses his fingers to his eyes to keep his brains from leaking out. When a cup of coffee slides under his nose Nick is Nick is momentarily thrilled, until he sees the writing on the cup . 

_your breath smells like dead cat : )_

“It’s amazing that you can be this much of a twat at barely half six in the morning,” Nick croaks out. He lifts his head and blinks in Louis’s direction. Louis is beaming, smile wide from ear to ear. He’s got on a Beatles t-shirt today and a dark grey beanie and Nick wants to rip the hat from his head and tie it around Louis’s throat. He actually might if Louis keeps smirking at him like that.

“It’s a gift and a talent, Grimshaw,” Louis grins and pats him on the back hard enough to shove Nick forward in his seat. The wheels on his chair roll and he hits his chest into the edge of the desk and lets out a strangled _oof_ and Louis laughs happily. “At first were you afraid, Nick? Were you petrified? Could you not stop thinking about what you’d do without me by your side?”

“I hate you,” Nick grumbles, “so very much.”

“Aww, thanks, Grimmy. You do say the loveliest things.”

Nick leans back in his seat and watches Louis bounce around the room fiddling with the levels on the soundboard and getting out all the pages for the adverts and links Nick needs for the morning. Louis is humming quietly under his breath, his mouth quirked in a tiny grin and Nick thinks that it would be a whole lot easier to actually hate Louis and everything about him if he weren’t so bloody attractive. 

“So what’s got you all peppy and energized this morning?” Nick drinks his coffee and moans quietly. Why is coffee so good only when Louis brings it to him? Possibly witchcraft is involved. Louis glances at him and then the coffee cup and rolls his eyes. 

“Well some of us don’t stay out ‘til all hours of the night drunkenly butchering 70’s disco classics for all of the internet to see,” Louis quips. Nick is about to protest – he does a damn good Gloria Gaynor, thanks ever so much – when Louis shakes his head and continues. “Plus it was a slow night at the restaurant so I got cut early and got a good night’s sleep.”

Nick frowns. He sometimes forgets Louis has things in his life other than interning for him at the station. Things like a job and classes and uni; maybe even a girlfriend, Nick has no idea. He met him through Harry and he knows Louis is going for a degree in radio communications which was why he needed the interning hours, that he works a few nights a week at a campus restaurant, and that he’s got a fantastic bum. Also that he’s a huge arsehole. That’s all Nick knows, though, really.

“Anyway, I’ve got an early lecture this morning so I’m coming back later to do a few more hours but Matt cleared me to leave whenever you’re set up for the day.” Louis is standing in front of him, hands clasped behind his back with an expectant look on his face. Nick feels his eyebrows scrunch and Louis rolls his eyes. “Am I done here, Grimshaw, or do you need something else is what I’m saying,” he clarifies and Nick blinks and shakes his head. He doesn’t need anything, not really, but the idea of doing a show without Louis there to wander around and distract him seems oddly dull. Nick should possibly have his head examined. 

“No, god, go,” Nick waves his hand in the air and tries not to be put off by how happy Louis looks at being able to escape. Is Nick really that bad in the mornings? He’ll have to ask Finchy. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your exciting lecture.”

Louis rolls his eyes a shrugs on a thick, warm looking hoodie and slings his bag over his shoulder. Nick’s breath gets stuck in his chest when he realizes he wants to get up and slide his hands inside the seams of Louis’ jacket. He can imagine the feeling of Louis’ chest and ribs under his hands, how soft and warm he must be. 

Nick thinks it’s possible he’s still drunk.

“All right then. Have a good show,” Louis smiles and Nick would think he was being decent and sincere for a second but then his grin turns evil and he says, “And make sure you turn your ringer off on your phone. You wouldn’t want it ringing on air and disturbing anyone.”

Louis bounces from the room then, the door swinging loudly shut behind him. Nick puts his head down and naps until Matt comes in and tells him it’s time to start and Nick forgets all about Louis’s warning until Louis texts him halfway through the show. Nick’s ringer has been turned all the way up and his ringtone has been set to _I Feel Pretty_ and Nick really, really _hates_ Louis Tomlinson.

*

“Did you miss me yesterday?” Louis is fluttering his eyelashes as he pushes a cup of coffee under Nick’s nose. Nick did miss him, not that he’ll ever admit it. The show was dead boring and the station was quiet and Nick’s not looking forward to whenever Louis’ internship is over. That thought alone is enough to make Nick want to stick his head in an oven. 

He glances down at the cup. _dirty hipster : D_ is scrawled across the side and really, now that he thinks about it maybe Nick won’t miss Louis all that much. 

“It amazes me, really,” Nick says. Louis raises a sharp eyebrow and Nick absolutely does not notice how piercing and blue Louis’s eyes are or how tight his trousers fit. “I mean, I know _you’re_ a twat but how do you manage to get some poor barista to do your awful bidding at half six every day.”

“Oh, that’s my mate Niall that works there,” Louis says cheerfully. “Top lad; you’d love him.”

“Mmpfh,” Nick grunts. He’s not sure he’d love Niall. Nick figures he doesn’t love anyone who willingly hangs out with Louis Tomlinson, Harry included. Harry is actually a bastard. He’s the one who got him into this mess to begin with. 

“Niall’s great,” Louis’s eyebrows pinch and he frowns, voice gone protective and sharp. “There’s not a person alive who doesn’t like Niall. You’d have to be inhuman.”

“Maybe I am,” Nick says dumbly. Louis blinks and Nick has no idea how to follow that up so he raises his hands in the air and makes scary sounds until Louis backs away. “Uuuuuggggggghhhhhh.”

“Yeeeeah,” Louis says slowly. “All right, mate,” and somehow Nick is left flopping around in his chair and groaning and looking like the idiot for no real reason.

Louis. Bloody. Tomlinson.

*

Nick has to stay late for a meeting after the show and then he and Finchy decide to get lunch at the sandwich place down the road from the station. Matt gets a veggie wrap and Nick gets a ham and cheese toastie and glares at him with every bite. 

“You could have gotten something a little more exciting than a handful of lettuce and some low fat dressing,” Nick frowns.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize we were competing to see who could eat healthier today,” Finchy grins around a mouthful of sprouts. “But seeing as we are: haha, I win.”

“Horrible. I work with horrible people and have terrible friends,” Nick finishes his sandwich and wipes his hands on the napkin in his lap. He feels slightly sick now, bloated and too full. He takes his mobile from his pocket and fiddles with it for a second because he should be calling Aimee or Annie and making plans to go to the gym and try and work off some of this sandwich but instead he pulls up Louis’ number and types out: _your face is stupid_ for absolutely no reason and hits send.

 _it’s so sad that you can’t go a single afternoon without me : (_ Louis sends back and oh my god, that was _not_ the message Nick was trying to get across. _I know I’m fantastic but this is actually a little bit depressing for you, mate_

_you’re not fantastic, you’re awful I don’t know why I’m talking to you_

_seeing as how you texted me you’ll need to be the one to answer that question : D xxx_

Nick tosses his mobile on the table so hard one of the forks jumps up from the tablecloth and bangs to the floor. Matt raises his eyebrows over the bottle of water he’s drinking (because if course he’s drinking water when Nick’s on his third Diet Coke of the day; Finchy really is the worst) and nods down Nick’s mobile on the table like it holds all the answers to the universe.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“It’s hardly paradise, I was talking to Louis,” Nick mutters. He doesn’t miss the smirk Finchy gives him but he does choose to ignore it. Another of Finchy’s lectures is definitely not what Nick’s got planned for the rest of the day. “He’s horrible, don’t you think? A right twat if you ask me.”

“No one’s asked you, though,” Finchy reminds him. He’s got his drone blah blah station manager voice on and Nick tries to tune him out but they’ve known each other too long and Matt knows all of Nick’s tricks. He stomps on Nick’s foot under the table and steals his drink until he’s done talking. “And he’s great at his job. He’s only at Radio 1 temporarily anyway; I don’t know what’s got your pants all up in a twist whenever he’s around.” Nick opens his mouth to defend himself – he doesn’t have his pants in a twist thanks so much – when Matt smirks and sharply kicks Nick’s ankle. “Unless it’s the disgusting crush you’ve got on him, that is.”

“I do not!” Nick is outraged. This is outrageous. Matt is the worst; why is Nick even here with him. “Me have a crush on Louis Tomlinson, you’re insane.”

“Your crush? Can be seen from _space_ ,” Matt goads. “Just in case you were wondering.”

Nick’s had just about enough. He rolls his eyes as he stands up and grabs his jacket. “You’re mental. Possibly you should see a doctor, I think you’ve fallen ill.”

Matt starts singing _Boyfriend_ under his breath and the last thing Nick needed in his life was Finchy’s Bieber impersonation. “Ugh, if you love him so much maybe you should date him,” Nick snaps. 

“I’d never stand in the way of true love,” Matt throws his arms out wide and grins brightly. Nick huffs and makes sure to kick him one last time on the way out, Matt’s laughter following him all the way through the cafe.

* 

The next morning Nick vows to try and be nicer to Louis because apparently being nasty to Louis is causing the world to think that Nick fancies him and that’s just unacceptable. He sits quietly in his chair and works on his links for the show and when Louis comes in and hands him his coffee Nick smiles and grits his teeth and brightly says good morning even though the side of the cup warns _don’t talk to me > : ( _ in what Nick now knows is Niall’s messy script. 

“Rough night, princess?” Nick sips his coffee and Louis grunts and ignores him, shucking off his jacket and going to work quietly. Nick leans back and narrows his eyes. Louis might be hungover but he doesn’t look it, really. His hair is clean and his face is shaven and he’s in far too nice clothes to have just rolled out of bed after a bender. It’s possible he’s fallen ill but he’s not sneezed or coughed yet and when Tina came in and Louis greeted her, his voice sounded fine, not like his throat’s bad or his stomach is wonky. 

He could be just _ignoring_ Nick but honestly, if that’s the case it’s just not going to work. 

“Louis,” Nick singsongs. “ _Louuuuuu-isssssssss_.”

“Grimshaw, I’m not kidding, today is not the day,” Louis warns. His eyes flash bright blue and his lips curve into a frown. He’s standing on the opposite side of the room and he looks like a grumpy kitten, his little hands curled into fists and pushing hard into his hips. He’s adorable.

“Well what’s the matter with today?” Nick beams. He fiddles with the soundboard and shrugs. “Rough night last night for a uni student? I’m sure having to decide whether to get pissed on cheap vodka or even cheaper beer is a rough decision at your age, but when I was a lad I always leaned towards—“

“Jesus Christ, do you ever _stop_?” Louis has crossed the room and now that he’s close enough Nick feels a little like shit because Louis is actually properly _angry_. His cheeks are flushed and his teeth clenched together. His voice shakes a little when he says, “I didn’t have a rough night last night because I was drinking, I had a rough night because I—“ he stops himself and sucks in a steadying breath. “No, you know what? Forget it. It’s not worth it.”

Nick desperately wants him to finish that sentence – he had what? A lot of drugs? Sex with a goat? The possibilities are endless – but instead of finishing Louis grabs his jacket and shrugs it back on. He shoots Nick one last glare and mutters something about making up his hours later in the day when Nick’s not around and stomps angrily from the room. 

*

Harry’s cross with him. Nick knows instantly when the text Harry sends him only says, _meet me at the café after your show_ without a smiley face or a string of xxx’s in sight. When Nick gets there Harry’s already sat at a table waiting for him, disappointed frown etched into his face. The worst part about being friends with Harry is that he doesn’t ever get angry, just sighs heavily and moans and clucks his tongue a lot and makes you feel like an utter twat when you screw something up.

Nick feels like a twat already, he doesn’t need Harry to remind him.

“Oh, Nick,” Harry sighs when Nick slides into the seat across from him. He’s got his hair pushed into a black beanie so Nick can clearly see the pinched little wrinkle between his eyes. “What happened today?”

Nick shrugs. He honestly wishes he knew. “I’m not sure. Louis came into work all in a snit and I was just joking around like usual but instead of joking back he decided to piss and moan and stomp off like a pouty little brat.” Nick takes the cup of coffee Harry’s set on the table in front of him and takes a sip. Harry’s still glaring at him mutinously and Nick looks away and huffs. “To be honest I think your friend needs mental help.”

“Yes,” Harry narrows his eyes and tips his chin toward _Nick_ , which, really? Harry thinks _he_ needs help? “I’m fairly certain a _few_ of my friends need mental help.”

“Did you know he puts cheeky notes on my coffee cup every morning?” Nick vows to get back at Harry later for the mental help comment. He’s got more pressing matters to attend to now. “Or he gets his mate Niall to do it, actually, but the _intent_ is Louis’s.”

“Oh, Niall’s great!” Harry beams. “Top—“

“Lad, yes, I’ve heard.” Nick ignores the way Harry’s rolling his eyes and ticks off on his fingers. “He puts rude messages on my coffee cup. He changes the ringtone on my mobile to horrible showtunes. He prances around the studio all—“ Nick bites down on his tongue to keep the words fit or gorgeous from spilling out. “Whatever,” Nick sniffs. “It’s not the point how he prances.”

Harry snorts. “’Course not.”

“And then this morning he doesn’t say a word, just points cryptically at some dumb message on the side of another cup of coffee and expects me to what, bring him biscuits and tissues because he’d had a rough night shagging some footie player or something?”

Harry’s mouth is hanging open. He’s actually openly gaping at Nick in the middle of a coffee shop. Nick gives in to his urge and reaches across the table to close Harry’s mouth with a finger on the underside of Harry’s chin. “Did you even _ask_ him what was wrong?”

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Nick says because he _did_ , dammit. “But instead of telling me he decided to get all huffy and stomp away and—“

“Nick, he was _upset_ today,” Harry’s eyes are wide and green. He bites his lip and looks away and Nick can tell Harry’s trying to keep himself from spilling every one of Louis’ secrets into the air between them. “He said he told you to leave him alone and you acted like a twat and I didn’t believe him because you’re a good guy, Nick, you’re _not_ a twat, but my god, I can kind of see now why Louis thinks you are.”

“All he said was to not talk to him today,” Nick throws his hands in the air. “Actually, he didn’t even say it; he had Niall write it on my bloody coffee cup. I mean, if there’s something going on, Harry, maybe someone should _tell_ me.” Nick drags a hand through his hair and scratches the back of his neck. He understands why Harry’s cross with him but really, he’s not going to take all the blame. Louis has a mouth; Nick’s heard it enough in the past, there’s no reason why he’d stop using it now. 

Harry’s eyes are troubled. Nick knows he feels guilty about possibly betraying Louis’s confidence but his desire to have everyone around him happy and friendly and in love with each other at all times is stronger than that. Nick leans in closer and pulls out his ace in the hole. 

“I can’t help him with whatever’s wrong if I don’t know what it is, Haz,” Nick says quietly. Harry looks wrecked and Nick knows he’s got him.

“Oh god, fine. Fine!” Harry rips up the napkin he’s holding into tiny pieces then gathers them into a small pile in front of his cup of tea. “He was supposed to go home this weekend for his sister’s birthday but some stuff came up and he can’t go now so he’s really upset.”

And, oh. That’s pretty crap. “Can he not get the weekend off from his other job?” Nick remembers Louis mentioning a restaurant he works in at night. 

Harry chews on his lip some more. He looks at Nick and stares at him for a second and it hits Nick just how close of a friend Harry is to Louis. Nick knows that Harry loves him too but he’s never seen a protective streak like this from Harry ever. It’s sweet. 

“Harry,” Nick says gently. 

“He didn’t have the money for the train ticket home,” Harry says quietly. “Between living expenses and books and stuff and not being able to work as many hours at the restaurant with all his interning he couldn’t swing it. I told him I’d front him and buy the ticket for him but he’s just…” Harry waves his hands in the air helplessly. “You just have to know, Lou, you know? He tries to be so tough but he’s really so sensitive and I know it’s killing him not being able to go home because he _hates_ to disappoint anyone and his sisters are going to be so sad.”

Nick feels a deep sinking in his stomach. “Sisters?”

“Yeah, he’s got four little sisters,” Harry tells him and Nick feels himself fall even deeper because of course Louis is secretly sensitive and proud and loves his four baby sisters. Of course he bloody does. “It’s the twins’ birthday over the weekend and Louis just really wanted to go home and see them.”

“Twins?”

“Yeah, they’re the babies,” Harry’s beaming, as proud as if the girls were his own. “Then there’s Lottie and Fitz. But yeah,” his grins falls as quickly as it bloomed. “The restaurant’s been slow recently and his hours have been getting cut and he’s just really, really bummed about it.”

Nick drops his head into his hand and groans. Harry tuts quietly and reaches out to rub the back of Nick’s neck, murmuring quietly about how it’s fine Nick didn’t know and upset Louis about it this morning, and how he’s sure Louis will forgive him. Nick doesn’t say anything back because he doesn’t know how to explain to Harry that he’s actually moaning because he just realized how deep he is into this thing with Louis without even realizing it. 

*

Louis is already at the station when Nick gets there early the next morning. There’s a coffee cup at his seat and Nick eyes the side and reads: _speak today if you must_ and grins. At least Louis seems to be slightly over his fit. He palms the envelope in his pocket and wonders, exactly, how long Louis’ good mood will last. 

There’s music playing quietly from the iPod docking station and Louis is humming along to the new Beyonce song as he sorts out invoices at the back desk. He looks up when Nick is standing in front of him and smiles tightly. 

“Grimshaw.”

“Tomlinson.”

They both eye each other for a minute and then Louis laughs quietly. “I suppose you’re waiting for an apology for yesterday.”

“Nope,” Nick holds his hands out palms up. “Not in the slightest.”

“Hmm,” Louis frowns. He crosses his arms over his chest and Nick wonders if Louis has something against shirts that fit properly. Surely there’s something in his closet that doesn’t pull quiet so much over his biceps. “Why do I feel like you’re up to something?”

“Because you’re a suspicious twat by nature,” Nick says dryly. Louis rolls his eyes a little and Nick thinks, _fuck it_ and reaches into his pocket for the envelope. He pulls it out and tosses it onto the desk. Louis stares at it as if it’s a poisonous snake.

“What’s that?”

“An envelope.”

“I can see that,” Louis’ frown goes even deeper. “Why is my name on it?”

“Well I’m not really sure where you’re from, love,” Nick says, “but where I come from if my name is on something generally it means that it’s for me.”

Louis sighs heavily. He leans forward and picks the envelope up and Nick tries not to notice the way his fringe is falling softly over his forehead, or the way his pretty eyebrows shoot up when he opens the envelope and sees what’s slid inside. 

“Nick, I can’t take this,” Louis drops the envelope as if it’s bit him. 

“But you can,” Nick insists.

“It’s a train ticket to Doncaster,” Louis says, as if Nick doesn’t know. As if Nick’s not the one who _bought_ the ticket for goodness sake.

“For this weekend,” Nick informs him. He steps away and heads over to his own desk. Louis’ face is slowly morphing from confused to irritated, and Nick wants to try and put a safe distance between them before he gets to flat out angry. “Harry mentioned—“

“ _Fucking Harry_ ,” Louis spits. “I never should have told him—“

“It’s not a big deal, all right?”

Louis shakes his head and stalks across the room. He slaps the envelope on Nick’s desk and backs away. “I can’t take that.”

“But you can,” Nick insists. 

“No.”

“Louis, I already bought it,” Nick says calmly. He’s never tried this with Louis before – having a calm and reasonable conversation – but so far it seems to be going as well as he’d imagined it would which is to say, not very. “If you don’t use it it’ll just go to waste. Unless you think _I_ should use it,” Nick says slowly.

Louis’ eyes go wide. “You want to go to Doncaster?”

“Well I hear there’s a birthday party going on that I wouldn’t want to miss. I definitely wouldn’t want to make a few little girls sad just because of my own stupid pride.” Nick knows it’s a low blow but he also knows it will work. Louis is chewing on his bottom lip but his face is softer. He’s staring at the envelope on the desk and Nick picks it up and hands it to Louis, closing Louis’ fingers around the edges. 

“Take it,” Nick tells him. “Consider it payback for all the coffees you’ve bought me.”

“The station pays for those,” Louis murmurs quietly. He puts the envelope in his pocket, though, and when he looks up again he gives Nick an actual, real smile. 

“Oh, the station does? Pity. I had no idea,” Nick says breezily. He turns away and fiddles with the files on his desk because Louis is watching him now with a steady, curious gaze and Nick isn’t entirely sure he wants Louis to find whatever answer it is that he’s looking for. It’ll be good for Louis to be away for a few days, Nick thinks. Good for Louis to get to go home and good for Nick too. Maybe it’ll give him some time to get over the near constant urge he’s been having to scoop Louis up and kiss the smirk off his mouth or find out just how soft Louis’ skin is under his jumpers. 

“Thank you,” Louis’s voice is so sincere Nick can’t stand it. He waves a hand over the back of his head and mutters, “You’re welcome. Now don’t you have some work to do?” and if he hides out in the hall until Finchy gets there no one ever has to know.

*

The next morning Nick gets up early enough to visit the coffee shop on his way to work and see if he can get the mysterious Niall to fix him a cup of coffee the way Louis usually brings it to him. Louis is already in Doncaster – Nick got a text from him late the night before saying he’d arrived and thanking him again for the ticket – but Nick ignored it along with the picture Louis sent of his smiling face surrounded by a crowd of beaming little girls. Maybe Louis is actually a terrorist, Nick thinks. An emotional terrorist. There’s no other way to explain why he would think sending Nick a picture of himself and his four ecstatic little sisters would be beneficial in any way.

Nick pushes open the door to the coffee shop and is greeted by a jangle of bells far too early for this hour of the morning. There’s tinny pop music blasting from the back of the shop where Nick guesses the kitchen is and a smaller lad with a shock of blond hair bustling around the small space and singing loudly into the top end of a mop handle. 

Perhaps Nick would be better off just making himself a cup of tea at the station. 

Before he gets the chance to flee, the lad looks up and catches his eye. He stares at him confusedly for a moment before recognition flickers over his features and says, “You’re Nick Grimshaw, yeah?”

Nick nods. “I am.”

“OI!” the lad turns his head and shouts over his shoulder. “LIAM, GET YOUR ARSE OUT HERE LOUIS’S GRIMMY IS HERE FOR A CUPPA.”

Nick feels his face flush hot and he stammers, “Oh, um, Niall, yeah?” Niall beams and nods. “Yes, hello, really, I’m just here for a quick coffee to take with me to work. No need to be calling—“

“Louis’s Nick is _here_?” comes another voice from the back room. Nick looks over to find a nice looking bloke with a beanie pulled over his head and the kindest eyes and smile Nick’s ever seen on a human. He’s got a dusting of flour on his cheeks and hands and is wearing a crisp white apron tied around his waist. He frowns a bit at the way Niall’s gawking at Nick and hurries forward, putting his hand out for Nick to shake. 

“I’m one of Louis’s mates Liam and this is Niall,” Liam nods at Niall who’s still wearing a slightly demented grin. Nick’s only known him for thirty seconds but he can see immediately why Harry and Louis were both so protective over him: no one with a smile like Niall’s could possibly have a mean bone in their body.

Nick shakes both their hands and rocks back on his heels. “It’s great to meet you. Louis has told me—“

“That was really great what you did for our Louis, mate,” Niall’s discarded the broom and is bustling around behind the counter fiddling with paper cups and the coffee maker. Nick tries to watch him and see what he does to make the coffee so bloody good but he can’t see, it’s all just a flurry of hands and Niall tossing things around and laughing a lot. Liam is leaned against the counter with his arms crossed, a fond smile on his face as he watches Niall as well. 

“We all felt like such shit that we couldn’t help; Li and I don’t make much here and Zayn tried to give Louis a few of his shifts at the restaurant but it didn’t help. Harry would have just bought him the ticket but Louis never would have taken it.” Niall finishes what he’s doing and slips a lid onto Nick’s coffee and slides it across the counter. “Still not sure how you managed it yourself even.”

Nick would tell them how but he’s still not entirely sure how he did it himself. “Just used the right words at the right time I guess,” Nick says. Liam comes over and claps him on the back warmly. 

“Well whatever the words were I’m glad for them.” He looks at Nick a bit strangely, almost like he – yep, there it is. Liam is hugging him. “Any mate of Louis’ is a mate of mine,” Liam says thickly in his ear and my god, one day Nick will actually _brain_ Harry for getting him tied up with this lot; too many emotions and feelings for the lot of them. 

Niall bounds out from around the counter and wraps his arms around Nick and Liam both and they all stand there hugging until the bell jangles again and then have to break away for Niall and Liam to do some actual work. 

“How much do I owe you,” Nick waves his coffee in the air. He takes a sip and it’s still too hot but other than that it’s fine, but Niall waves him off.

“Don’t even think about it; it’s on the house.”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely,” Liam says. He still smiling and Nick finds himself smiling back without realizing it. Louis’ damn friends are making him soft. “We’ll see you tomorrow then, yeah?”

Nick chuckles a little and lifts his hand in a wave. “Cheers, lads. See you tomorrow,” he says, and smiles all the way to the station when he sees that Niall’s decorated the side of his cup with Nick’s name and then _Louis’ bff_ right under it.

*

_I met Niall and Liam today_

_Oh god were they embarrassing?_

_Not too much I only had to pay a few pounds for them to show me your most embarrassing pictures on facebook_

_I TOLD NIALL TO TAKE THOSE PICTURES DOWN_

_Lol I don’t know why, love, you look smashing in a hot pink tutu_

*

Louis has been gone for four days and Nick tells himself that he’s not excited to see him at the station tomorrow morning but he’s also not very good at lying to himself so he never actually believes it. 

He goes to dinner with Harry at the restaurant Louis works at and they sit in Zayn’s section. Zayn brings them drinks without ringing them in and a strange assortment of food that Nick is fairly sure is just the extras from the kitchen but Harry seems happy enough with it and Nick’s not going to complain. Zayn spends half the time they’re there sighing at the ceiling and the other half glowering into the distance. Nick can’t tell if he’s deep in thought or just bored.

“So Louis is back tonight,” Harry wiggles his eyebrows and grins. He makes a river in the ketchup on his plate by dragging one of his chips through it and then places a wilted piece of lettuce on top like a small, makeshift moat. If he starts constructing miniature people out of the rest of the condiments Nick is leaving. 

“Is he really?” Nick says dully. He sips his beer and refuses to meet Harry’s eyes. “I hadn’t realized.”

“Lies,” Harry quips. “All lies.”

Nick bites his lip and looks over to where Zayn is ignoring the three ladies waving their check over their head at the table next to them in favor of doodling something on the bottom of his shoe. Surely that’s not sanitary. 

“Are you going to pick him up at the train station?” Harry asks.

Nick whips his head around. “What? No. Why? Does he think I am?”

“Nah, I’m picking him up actually,” Harry scans his plate then begins to cut his pickle into small, precise triangles. Nick is not going to ask.

“I’ll see him at the station tomorrow,” Nick says. He waves his empty beer in Zayn’s direction but Zayn just catches his eye and sneers. Nick tips the bottle back for the few remaining drops. “I’m glad he had fun, he’s a nice lad.”

“You love him,” Harry’s hair is falling forward and shielding his face so Nick can’t see if he’s being serious or taking the piss. He thinks taking the piss when the next thing Harry says is, “Like, really, really loooooooooove him.”

“Horrible child,” Nick tosses a handful of napkins at Harry’s head. Harry’s finished cutting up the pickle and now he’s laying them out in the ketchup pointy side up. “Are you making a shark?”

“Crocodile,” Harry beams. “And you do.”

“I don’t,” Nick insists. There’s no point in pretending he doesn’t know what Harry’s talking about. Harry might play dumb at a lot of things but he’s one of the smartest people Nick’s ever known. “I mean, sure, he’s not a bad person.”

“He’s not.”

“And he can be funny, I guess, if you like that sort of humor.”

Harry doubles over laughing, a handful of olives he’s been fooling around with dropping from his hand and rolling across the table. “I actually don’t even remember who we’re talking about right now, you or him.”

“Anyway,” Nick narrows his eyes. He’s not even going to entertain Harry’s idiocy with a response. “I suppose he’s fit.” Harry snorts but Nick ignores him. “Not that it matters, I’m not even sure if he fancies blokes—“

“He does—“

“That doesn’t mean he fancies _me_ —“

“He _does_.” 

Harry’s full out glaring now and Nick rolls his eyes. “Look, Haz, it doesn’t matter. Louis is great, sure. Rah rah let’s ring all the bells. But he works with me and I’m not going to have some big discussion about our feelings and I’m not going to do anything without knowing _his_ feelings so it doesn’t really matter, yeah? It’s fine. I’m just glad he’s back tomorrow. Dealing with Niall at half five every morning myself is torture.”

“Oh god, I know,” Harry says and thankfully lets the conversation drop in favor of feeding his handmade olive people to the pickle crocodile in the deep seas of ketchup. 

*

Nick’s just about to turn off the telly and head to bed when he hears a soft knocking at his door. He frowns a little and peers through the peephole, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth against his will when he sees who’s on the other side. 

“Tomlinson,” Nick swings the door open and smirks. “You just happened to be in my neighborhood?”

“Slumming it, actually,” Louis says, and it doesn’t matter what he’s saying it’s his voice and Nick’s not heard it in far too many days and my god, is he in deep. His stomach flutters and he turns away before Louis can see the blush rising high on his cheeks. “I had Harry drop me off.”

“Lovely,” Nick wanders into the kitchen beckoning Louis to follow him. He hears the thump of Louis’s rucksack and the rustle of his jacket being thrown on the sofa and then he’s padding into Nick’s kitchen soft and sleepy and rumpled looking. He’s in an oversized white jumper and a pair of old jeans and thick socks and Nick has to look away because he really, really wants to kiss him.

“Can I get you a tea?” Nick asks because his mum taught him right: even in the middle of a personal crisis Nick can make you a sodding cup of tea. 

Louis nods, “Please. Milk no sugar.”

Nick fills the kettle and lights the hob and then waits to see if Louis is going to tell him why he’s currently stood in Nick’s kitchen at half ten on a Monday night or if Nick is going to have to guess. 

“Here,” Louis says after the silence hangs for another long moment. Nick turns and Louis is handing him some notes, enough to cover Louis’ train ticket Nick thinks when he glances down. “My mum gave me the money to give back to you but she said to tell you thank you. The girls would have been crushed if I wasn’t there.”

“It’s fine,” Nick puts the money on the counter and fills the mugs when the water boils. He gets the milk out for Louis and takes a sip of his own hoping it will somehow settle his nerves. “I’m glad you were able to go.”

“No, I—“ Louis puts his mug down and bites his lip, frustrated. “You don’t understand; that was really decent of you. Sometimes I can be—”

“Thick headed?” Nick supplies. “Horrible? An obnoxious twat?”

“Determined,” Louis says firmly and glares, “But it would have sucked for the girls if I didn’t get to go home and I didn’t think of it that way so thank you.”

Nick would tease but he has a feeling he knows how hard it was for Louis to just say that. “You’re welcome,” he says instead, and Louis nods. 

Louis is watching him, though, close and careful and intently. Nick’s fingers twitch around his mug. He puts it down when Louis steps closer, blowing the fringe back from his face and smiling quietly with his bright blue eyes and his sharp white teeth. “Seeing as how we’re making all these breakthroughs tonight, I want to try something,” Louis says quietly. 

Nick nods because he’s no dummy, he knows what’s coming even before Louis pushes up onto his toes and curls his hands in the front of Nick’s t-shirt. Louis hesitates for a split second, but Nick is suddenly tired of looking at Louis and not touching, of only wondering what his skin feels like when it’s not hidden under all those layers of clothes. 

He cups his hands around Louis’ shoulders and pulls him in, Louis laughing quietly when Nick tilts his head and catches Louis’ mouth with his own. Louis’ lips are soft and warm and he gasps a quiet breath against Nick, tickling his cheek and chin. 

“Yeah?” Louis asks, and honestly, how can he not _know_?

“Yeah,” Nick says and kisses him again. 

It’s softer than Nick had imagined; gentler maybe. Nick always figured that he and Louis would come together in some kind of explosion of heated words and barbed dialogue, not this quiet touching in his kitchen with the fridge humming softly in the background. He kisses Louis deeper and Louis twists his hands in Nick’s shirt, dragging him close, chests bumping as they move so Nick can lean his back against the counter pulling Louis flush against him. 

“We going to do this right here in your kitchen, Grimshaw?” Louis’s voice is breathy. He crowds into Nick’s space, stealing the breath from his chest, the words from his mouth. Nick can only nod and Louis rocks against him, a desperate whine filling the space between them when Nick slides his fingers under Louis’ jumper and digs them into the soft skin over his back, trailing his fingertips up the bumps of Louis’ spine.

Louis is soft; soft skin soft voice. Nick thought finding out what Louis felt like would be enough but if anything it’s just making him crazier, more desperate to know everything. To strip Louis down and lay him out and kiss every inch of his skin. He wants to know the places on Louis’ body that make him laugh and the places that make him shake and the places that make him moan and writhe and clutch Nick’s hair and hands. He wants Louis in his bed for as long as he can have him, but Louis is kissing him harder now, biting Nick’s bottom lip and the edge of his jaw and more than anything Nick just wants to get him off. 

He fumbles with the button on Louis’ jeans and Louis pulls away only to blink wide blue eyes at him and grin wickedly. Nick finally gets them open and drags down the zip to get his hand inside, Louis’ dick already hard and wet at the tip, curving up toward his belly. Nick drops his head down on Louis’ shoulder and mouths at the soft knit of his jumper. He pushes his hips forward and his own dick catches on the back of his hand where he’s wanking Louis and he groans, loud and broken. 

“Get your stupid clothes off,” Louis pants and fumbles with Nick’s jogging bottoms and manages to get them shoved halfway down his hips. He uses both hands, one on Nick’s dick and the other around his waist to pull Nick closer, rocking them together and Nick’s eyes nearly cross with how good it feels. He’s not been so desperate to get off that he couldn’t make it to a bed in ages, but that’s good, it’s fine, it’s great. He tugs on Louis’ dick a few more times his fingers curled tight around the head until Louis is shaking in his arms, gasping and moaning and coming on both their bellies. 

Nick swipes his hand through it and curls is around his own prick. He’s close – so close already – but then Louis covers Nick’s hand with his fingers and Nick makes the mistake of looking down, seeing Louis’ small hand curled around his larger one and he can’t stop thinking about Louis’ hands all over him, his mouth on Nick’s skin and belly and cock and Nick’s shooting off, coming harder than he’s remembered doing in a long while and Louis, for some reason, is snickering. 

“My god, you sure know how to show a lad a good time,” Louis says but there’s no heat behind it. His eyes are twinkling and he makes a big production of wiping his hands and then both their bellies off on Nick’s shirt. Nick frowns. 

“I didn’t hear you complaining five minutes ago, love.”

“Hmm,” Louis leans back but leaves his arms locked around Nick’s waist. They’re both half-dressed in his kitchen and the entire room reeks of sex but it’s good, it’s nice. Nick is happy about it. He leans forward and kisses Louis softly on the mouth, pleased when Louis hums happily and deepens the kiss. 

“You got a bed in this place?” Louis says and bites on Nick’s bottom lip. “Or are we just going to shag against the wall all night.”

“Oops, soz, forgot we’re all out of those here,” Nick ducks when Louis goes to smack him in the head. 

“I demand a bed,” Louis says firmly. He untangles himself from Nick’s limbs and Nick would be disappointed but it only lasts long enough for Louis to take Nick’s hand and pull him from the kitchen. “I’ve never been here before so you’re going to have to show me the way.”

“Never been here before and already staying the night?” Nick tuts. Louis rolls his eyes and leads them farther into the living room before stopping short and frowning. “Who knew you were so easy, Tomlinson.”

“Not too many people,” Louis answers, “and you’re not _going_ to know if you don’t point out the damn bedroom, Grimshaw,” and really, he has a point. Nick does an immediate about face and drags Louis through the rest of the flat until they get to the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind them.

*

They wake the next morning tangled in a pile of arms and legs and Louis bitches and whines the entire time Nick showers and gets dressed. Nick’s bathroom is too small, the water is too hot, his tea is too weak. He doesn’t like Nick’s music. He can’t believe Nick doesn’t have any food. If Nick didn’t have to wear a collared shirt to hide the bite mark in the shape and size of Louis’ mouth on the base of his throat he’d have thought everything was the same with him and Louis as it always had been, that maybe he imagined the events of the night before entirely. 

They drive to the station together and Louis leaves Nick at the front door claiming he has to go get his tea and Nick’s coffee and say hello to Niall and Liam. Nick nods and tries not to feel slighted; he has a job to do anyway and maybe last night didn’t mean as much to Louis as Nick thought it did. Maybe he’s making too much out of things. 

By the time Louis gets back Nick’s convinced himself that he actually hallucinated the entire night before and the marks on his neck and thighs are from some kind of opium induced fugue state. He doesn’t think he took opium but it’s possible he did. The loose tea from Sainsbury’s does look a little suspicious at times. 

Louis slides up behind him then though, his body warm against Nick’s back. He leans in close and drops his forehead on Nick’s shoulder and Nick thinks, _Oh. All right_ and tries to take a deep breath. Louis fingers curve around Nick’s hip and squeeze before he slides a cup of coffee in front of him and steps away to get to his work in the back of the office. 

_I think you’re pretty great_ is scrawled on the side of Nick’s coffee cup, but it’s not in Niall’s writing for once. This is the messy spike Nick’s seen on invoices and timesheets and post it notes for months. He glances back at Louis who’s smiling at him. _come have dinner with me tonight?_ is written right under it, and Nick can’t help but grin and touch his thumb to the words, his fingers coming away with a black smudge from the still wet ink of what he thinks is supposed to be a heart after the question mark. 

When he looks up again Louis is watching him hesitantly as if he’s afraid Nick might not say yes; as if he somehow still doesn’t _know_.

“Definitely,” Nick says and when Louis grins Nick can feel it from all the way across the room.

 

-end-


End file.
